Summer Swim
by Neko Oni
Summary: DISCONTINUED Quatre is hurt. His lover and caretaker, Trowa, is helping him recover.
1. Default Chapter

to all those who told me about the cut off, thank you!! here it is, i fixed it and i updated it!! chapter two is up!! and chapter three will be out soon!! the action will start to pick up!!  
  
notes: 3x4, shounen-ai, slight angst in later chapters  
  
SUMMER SWIM  
  
The sun beamed down unmercifully on the vast estate, intensifying the white walls and pillars. The bright light shined off of the still water of the cement, in the ground swimming pool. Quatre shuddered as he and Trowa left the cool shadows of a walkway underneath a balcony of the poolhouse and entered the humid heat. He panted as he took two hurried strides for everyone of Trowa's long, relaxed ones.  
  
Trowa stopped at a patio table with a huge, open umbrella in the center and tossed their swim bag into one of the chairs. As the much smaller blonde rushed to catch up, he tripped and Trowa, brought out of a daydream involving him, Quatre, and the pool and just realizing how far behind the poor boy had been, caught him before he hit the pavement. Held in his strong, lean arms, Quatre pressed his cheek to Trowa's smooth, bare chest. His slender body was still and eventually, his breathing slowed. Trowa's long fingers rubbed the smooth curve of his spine through his cotton swim robe then stroked the downy softness of his hair.  
  
"Dajoubu?" Trowa's low, husky voice was next to his ear. Having those sensous, skilled lips so close and feeling that hot breath against his suddenly warm skin stole his own breath. "H-hai. Arigato." he murmurred and pressed a grateful kiss to the warm, muscled chest and opend his big, brilland blue saphire eyes. Trowa kept an arm around him and the other rested on his head.  
  
His large hand slipped down to cradle his neck, tilting his head back, then his head lowerd and he lazily parted Quatre's soft, moist lips with his tongue, letting it wander inside. His other hand roamed lower, untying the robe and trailing down Quatre's flat stomach to tease the wasteband of his trunks. Trowa's roving hand stroked his front and his mouth tantalized a nerve cluster behind his earlobe. Quatre responded by wrapping his arms around his neck and arching his back, melting into those experienced carresses. Trowa's fingers ghosted over his thight and up his back, leaving a tingling trail on his exposed skin.  
  
Trowa kissed those warm, pink lips as he rubbed his soft curves with both hands, then in one fluid motion, came up and slipped the robe completely off. The white terry cloth fell to the floor, revealing white, porcelain like skin. He pressed Quatre's soft body into his hard one, causing the smaller boy to shiver with abandoment.  
  
his tongue plundered the sweet recesses of his mouth, taking everything that was so innocently offered and then some. His hands once more stroked his thighs: Quatre liften one leg then the other so that Trowa now held him. The kiss settled into a steady rythym and Quatre's body begain to rock with it, lead by Trowa's.  
  
From those slight grinding movements, Trowa felt himself becoming harder by the second with a rush of heady desire and adrenaline surging through his veins. He was starting to think with his other head, which only wanted to take Quatre places the naive boy had never been to before, probably didn't even know they existed. In all of his experience, no one, male or female, had ever interested him the way Quatre did. Sure, Trowa had been aroused by them, but they had just been little thrills and one night stands. But this little piece of fluff in his arms was much more than mere amusement. Somehow, over the past months, the boy had become much more than an obsession and infatuation; he'd wormed his way into Trowa's secluded heart and took root there. Which was why he was so unwilling to take Quatre's virginity so blatantly. Trowa stilled. Quatre wriggled encouragement, and Trowa said, "Little one, if we continue, you'll be loosing alot more than just your robe."  
  
Quatre laid his head on his shoulder. "Would that be so bad?" he murmurred against his neck.  
  
After a short silence, " In the end, all you'd feel is pain. They all did."  
  
Quatre whimpered in protest and Trowa carressed his back. "Little one, I am only capable of giving you physical pleasure. Nothing more." No matter how much he wished it was otherwise. Quatre was the first one to make him feel...  
  
Quatre looked up at him, saphire orbs misting over. He laid one hand on Trowa's heart and the other over his own. "Trowa, don't you feel it? I know you have feelings for me. I know you do. Listen to your heart. If you didn't love me, then why were we together so much over the past few months? All that time, all those memories...if it was to get me in bed, you would have done so by now. You'd still be doing it now. So...you're lying to me and yourself, Trowa Barton. You care for me. I can feel it. Can't you? Do you deny it?"  
  
Trowa had met those brave, fervent eyes, then looked away when Quatre finished and expected him to answer. His silence told all. Quatre lost his nerve and looked away, too, burying his face in Trowa's chest. Although he was only shaking slightly and was silent, Trowa knew he was crying. So much for not causing him pain. "Quatre." Trowa rubbed his back soothingly, urging him to look up at him.  
  
Quatre raised his head, tears clinging to his lashes. Trowa gently wiped them away. "Little one, I- I do love you, but..." But I can't handle the commitment. Love 'em and leave 'em. That's my motto. That way, I won't get burned. But isn't Quatre worth the risk? I know he loves me so completely, devotionally, unconditionally. And I....I think I feel the same way. I...l...love him. I'd die to protect him. But...the true test is....could I...live for him...???  
  
Trowa's face betrayed none of his emotions, but Quatre could sense his reluctance deep in his heart. Trowa loved him, he'd said it himself. He closed his eyes, pushing back the tears for later. Trowa would eventually tire of this, have his way with him, and leave him, like he had done to the others. The only thing Quatre could do was cherish what time was allowed him. For now, he belonged to him.  
  
Time spanned when Trowa fineally slid Quatre down the hard line of his body. He glanced down as he removed the white plastic splints from Quatre's hands. The boy's skin was so white and the burn scars so pale that it was difficult to see them. The skin had healed soft but scarred; unfortuneately, the nerves had been burned to severely be fully functional again. At this moment, Quatre had no use of either hand, and it was unsure if he ever would again.  
  
Trowa tossed the splints onto the glass table and held the dainty, damaged hands in his own large ones. He raised them to his lips and brushed a kiss on each. "Fair Quatre, you have no idea what you do to me." He whispered low, for Quatre's ears alone, then, feeling himself getting hard again, turned and walked out to the end of the pool. 


	2. chapter 2

see!! here it is!!! part two!!!!!  
  
Quatre watched with wide, blue eyes as Trowa walked up to the diving board in graceful stides of a nobleman. His dark blue swim trunks were slung low on his lean hips. The muscles of his leonine body rippled as he bounced on the diving board. His swandive was flawless. He let the cool water of the deep rush over him, removing the tightness and heat from his body. He plunged ever downward until, at the last second before collision with the bottom, he jerked in a sharp arc and swam all the way underwater to the steps in the shallow end.  
  
Trowa came up with a splash and stood, motioning for Quatre to come to him. Delicately, he entered the cold, 3ft. water that barely came up to trowa's hips and his stocmach. He stood just below Trowa's shoulder. Trowa wrapped him in his arms, gently rubbing his chilled flesh. Having lived int he colonies, Quatre had had little experience with the uncontrolled temperatures of Earth.  
  
Once Quatre adjusted to the cold water, Trowa took his deadened hands in his. "Ready?" he nodded and he pulled him gently, so that he floated belly down. "Kick your feet." The two began their daily ritual. It was part therapy and play, for both of them. For Quatre, it was getting him out of the sun to get some color back in those pale cheeks, learning how to swim, and strengthening his muscles. For Trowa, it was exercising and strengthening his heart; not physically, but emotionally. His heart, and indeed his soul, was emotionally crippled. But interacting on a very personal basis with sweet, innocent little Quatre was an exercise of sorts. Therapy for the soul. Learning how to love and live.  
  
After a few laps of this in the shallow end, Trowa held Quatre around the waist, supporting him. They had done this so many times together, they were in tune with eachother. The events never changed from day to day; it was always the same. Trowa waited for Quatre to take a deep breath and he put him under the water. He held him there a few minutes then pulled him up into his arms.  
  
Quatre lay his head on his shoulder, eyes closed and enjoying the feeling of sweet, fresh air in his lungs. Eventhough he was used to this by now; he no longer panicked, at least, he still didn't like it. It had helped him in his endurance, and now he could hold his breath for 3 minutes, whereas in the beginning, he could only hold it for 60 seconds. The only good thing about this part of their routine was that Trowa cuddled with him, allowing him to rest and catch his breath. He snuggled closer, enjoying the feel of their bare, wet skin gliding against eachother.  
  
Trowa froze when he felt the warm, wet friction caused by Quatre's movement. In his naivete, Quatre had made Trowa more solid that a rock more times than the most coy and flirtatious of lovers ever had. But instead of just down there reacting to that petite, golden body, his heart reacted too. It did funny little flip flops and tried to fly out of his body. It was...unusual. He'd never felt this way about anyone. Then again, he'd never had anyone as innocent as Quatre. That's the lie he told himself; he was only reacting this strongly because Quatre was still so pure. He'd never been tainted, so Trowa would be the first to spoil him. That's all it was. The chance to claim the first victory. 


End file.
